Chuck vs the Past
by fAteD lOvE
Summary: They had not seen each other in two and a half years. In that time, a lot can change: more than Chuck cared to admit. But as he realizes, meeting her again, that some things never do.
1. Chapter I

Here's another one! I'm on a rooooolllllll... :)

I usually just jump into fics, I'm not usually one for intros and laying brickwork because I'm a procrastinator and if I do that, I'll never get any writing done.

A/N: Not to reveal too much, but this is based on the scene where Chuck finds Bryce in Sarah's room. That's the turning point for this, although the fic's set a few years after (AUish). Rating will probably be raised later.

Disclaimer: Sigh, after Chuck vs the Breakup, I not only want Chuck, but now I want Bryce :) he's not that bad a guy I guess...

* * *

**Chapter One**

--

Thump. Thump.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see enemy dropping like flies.

_Must be one of ours. Someone has my back. _She didn't notice the man until her fell on her from behind, headshot. Sarah threw him off with a disgusted expression. _But why was the sniper taking such close shots to her?_

Sarah delivered another roundhouse, eyes roving for their position.

The man dropped after receiving the vicious kick. She scanned the compound in front of her, still in combat position.

She whipped around, feeling the swoosh of air signalling someone at her back, the burst of air no doubt the raising of a gun.

There was no time. He couldn't be stopped.

Just as Sarah withdrew inside herself, repeating the mantra of 'To protect the greater good', there was a another small thunk. She cracked open one eye.

The man swayed, then keeled over, revealing a smoking gun, equipped with a silencer, behind which, was one Roan Montgomery.

"_Agent Montgomery_?!" Sarah Walker's eyes were so wide that Roan couldn't help but chuckle.

He pointed at her, "And, someone with me who you might recognize too!"

Something caught the blond's eye, her hand traced the smooth metal of her gun. She glanced over Roan's shoulder, watching as a dark silhouette materialized out of the shadows, fluid movement of his arm tugging the black balaclava off his head as he went. The crown of rich brown curls freed of their constraint dropped around his face.

Her face paled.

"_Chuck_?" She let out as an exhale of air. Her hands hung loosely by her sides, grasping at empty air.

His reply was to heft up his rifle expertly, without a look, swung it downward and shot at point blank.

The dying man fell limply down again, clean bullethole through his head. The knife clattered to the ground, bouncing once, then lay innocently still on the cold concrete.

As he approached, Roan clapped him on the back. "Now, now Charles, what did we talk about?"

Chuck nodded curtly. Be smooth, confident, enter dramatically: maybe he _had_ gone a little overboard with the last one.

Aware of Sarah's eyes watching his every move, Chuck slung the weapon behind him, settling the strap comfortably on his right shoulder.

He crossed his arms snuggly over his chest, a spark of pride erupting in his chest as his biceps bulged as he did. "Agent Walker."

It looked as if Sarah had never expected to see him again. That stung.

Roan looked between the two, as if waiting for something to happen.

Chuck turned a sharp gaze onto him. "Let's go retrieve the other agent." He turned his back on them, clearly expecting them to accept his leadership. Montgomery shrugged. Well, he _was_ one of the best.

Sarah's shell-shock expression still hadn't receded.

"That's not Chuck Bartowski." She said firmly. "It isn't. He doesn't kill."

"No, it's not." Montgomery conceded jovially, purposefully misinterpreting her words. "It's actually-"

The radio crackled into life, "Crimson Rose, do you copy?"

_Crimson rose_.

How had Chuck managed to choose that as his code name? Sarah thought, as he replied to the voice.

_Crimson rose._

One of the most successful assassins in the world. She had heard the phrase repeated only once: and it had been in utmost admiration. It had been Chuck all along? This was so surreal.

"Strapping young lad, isn't he?" Montgomery leaned over, winking.

Sarah stared blankly at him.

"Get ready." Came the order from the front. "Monty. I want you to stay back, you bag of old bones. I can handle this."

Far from being offended, Roan grinned, giving him the double thumbs up, "Of course."

Chuck slowed his stride, slipping a gun discreetly tucked at the small of his back out, holding it steadily at eye level.

"Showtime." He muttered to himself.

--

"Where's Bartowski?" Beckman demanded, severe eyebrows drawn together. "He should know better than to be late."

A sound of a door opening made them all whip around, hands on gun handles, the General's eyes flickering up as well, finger poised to disconnect the conference to protect her identity.

"Diane." Montgomery's smooth voice washed over them again, reminding them forcibly of another day, back in the past -but this time minus Casey's hulking presence-.

The general looked about to melt.

"Roan." She said sweetly, her voice making Sarah think of rotten candy and the whole exchange making her vaguely uncomfortable.

Bryce snorted, not-so-inconspicuously.

He came closer, "Charles will be here any minute, that fussy boy, but-" Montgomery spread his hands helplessly, "-You can't complain I guess. He can cut a tux like no one else now."

Sarah's eyebrow lifted. _Chuck?_

The door opened a second time.

A polished italian loafer appeared first; Sarah registered Beckman leaning forward from the corner of her eye. She followed the foot up over the meticulously-pressed black slacks that emphasized his long legs.

"I'm sorry I'm late." Came Chuck's deep voice, followed shortly by the rest of his body, clad smartly in a black suit jacket, the classic lines emphasizing his broad shoulders, only the bottom buttons neatly done up to expose a peek of royal blue silk of his shirt.

He brought his hands up to chest level, fiddling with the glinting silver cufflinks, behind that though, drew Sarah's interest the most; the exposed flesh of the tanned skin on his chest refused to let her avert her gaze.

Beckman's voice was it's same perpetually serious tone, but Sarah noticed the little rise in pitch at the end. "Sharp as usual, Bartowski." She turned to Montgomery. " I must say, Roan, your influence does wonders."

Roan nodded wisely, beaming, "Ah yes, my protege. He still has a most _annoying_ flaw, however." But he didn't say any more.

Chuck stood tall on the other side of Montgomery.

"Come here, boy." Roan pulled his head down roughly after examining him critically from head to toe, yanking a few stray hairs out of Chuck's gelled down hair that were not to his liking.

"Ah!" Chuck struggled in his grip, floundering about with his arms waving wildly. Sarah smiled slightly, hand over her heart, trying to calm her racing heart beat before anyone could notice.

Bryce turned to peer at her. She averted her gaze from Chuck rapidly.

"Sarah?" Her eyes flew back to him. His own seemed intense as they bored through her. His irises seemed even darker than before, lending him a mysterious aura.

He wasn't so tall, dark and _cute_ now. She thought wryly. Nope.

"Bartowski, Walker: focus."

They whipped back to Beckman, trying to pass the suspicious look she sent them as their imaginations.

Chuck tried to concentrate, trying to fight the distraction that was Sarah Walker. His attention was fixed soley on her voice as she reported back her mission and where Chuck came in.

It was hard, standing not two meters from the woman who several years ago, he was emotionally involved so deeply with that at that time- he could have visualised getting married to, and whom had subsequently ditched him to frolick with Bryce somewhere halfway across the world. -And not a word from her those two and a half years she was gone.

"Roan, Bartowski. Good work. But Roan: try stay out of the major gunfights, you're an ex-agent. Besides, Bartowski's more effective when working on his own, he tends to get...somewhat _distracted_ with partners- especially _female_ ones." She brushed off Chuck's eye-roll, "You're very welcome to continue your success with Agent Bartowski's extra-curricular training, of course."

"Um, just to defend myself:" Chuck raised a finger, "They _intentionally_ distract me. I'm left wondering all the time if they're the enemy trying to get me killed."

"That's not my problem, Bartowski," Beckman replied impatiently, "It is your fault that you make them compromise themselves, though that's not the problem- it's the mission that gets affected by it."

Only Roan noticed the way Sarah ducked her head at Beckman's answer, seeming embarrassed.

Her head jerked up again when she was addressed.

"Walker and Larkin, I'm quite disappointed that you managed to get yourselves into that mess in the first place. You two are a highly competent pair, but your worth to the CIA seems to be decreasing rapidly. You're lucky that Team Bartowski arrived to drag your asses out of that place."

Chuck tried to hold down a snicker at Bryce's sulky looking pallor.

"General, it won't hap-"

Beckman cut in, "Make sure it doesn't, Walker. And, though I'm not happy about your team recieving contact with Bartowski, it's better to stay together for now until another assignment comes up."

"Yes ma'am."

"Very well, _Diane_." Roan drawled.

Beckman started flushing- until she saw Chuck's expression:

"Wipe that shit-eating smirk off your face, Agent Bartowski, or I'll have Casey beat the hell outta you."

The colours eclipsed into blackness, and the screen went blank.

There was a moment of silence.

"Sounds kinky."

--

"So," He started as he stopped in front of them standing in the expansive lobby of the Bellagio, "There're only three rooms available, pretty busy time here apparently. All have queen beds...Monty can have his own room, I'll stay in one..."

Chuck trailed off, glancing first at Sarah and then Bryce.

Bryce spoke up to answer his unasked question, "Sarah and I will have the third room."

Sarah lifted up a finger, unimpressed with him, wanting to be included in the decision making. Before she could speak though, Chuck had already turned to her, as if about to ask her opinion even after Bryce's statement.

Her eyes softened imperceptibly, Chuck had always been like this, it was no different now.

"Agent Walker?"

She snapped out of her thoughts, "Um, do I have any choice? You and Agent Montgomery have already taken the other rooms..."

Chuck paused, then with as much hesitation as she had seen from him so far, said: "You- could always share my room..." He quickly made up for it, "Or, take either mine or Monty's. He and I can share, I'll just sleep on the floor."

"I'd say you are very chivalous for leaving me the bed," Roan started, "But, I am no woman. I don't appreciated being treated as such."

They all ignored him, leaving him to mutter about 'young people these days' and his 'reputation as CIA's legend'.

Bryce turned to Sarah, slipping an arm around her waist. Sarah looked startled for a moment, then relaxed, though still seeming tense: Chuck wondered if her uneasiness had anything to do with the present company.

The fact alone that she didn't brush Bryce off told him that this occurred on a fairly frequent basis. The thought was mildly disappointing- but he quickly discarded that line his mind was going.

Bryce turned his icy blue eyes to Sarah, "But babe, we always share a bed-" He shook his head, "-What's different this time?"

Chuck did not miss the brief flicker of her eyes at him before she focused on Bryce again. "I-" She sighed, "All right."

He tried to nuzzle her neck, but she pushed him away almost as if she was trying to prove something.

Montgomery decided that it was the perfect time to defuse the situation-

"Well, since you..._lovebirds_," He looked carefully at Chuck for a moment, "have it all sorted...the single ones, meaning Charles and I- will go get dead drunk and pick up a few women!"

Chuck didn't look too pleased- but he knew Roan was trying to lift his spirits...in his own way.

"Don't expect us to be back till morning then eh? Those trackers you put on us might come in handy though, after all, we'll probably split up with different women to their places."

Bryce blanched.

Chuck smirked.

"You can't outwit a professional with a heap of experience that easily like Monty here...and I, well I just keep up with the technology, so I recognized it rather easily." He said smugly, now grinning back at Roan.

Sarah looked wistful for some reason. _That is, if she wasn't pretending_. Chuck thought venomously as she then turned to look incredulously at him.

"Adios!"

Chuck hurried after Montgomery's receding back, one of the old agent's hand lifted up in a wave without looking.

"Hurry along, will you Charles? The night of debauchery and fun won't wait for us!"

--

"You seem distracted." It was not a question. "Distractions can get you killed." Montgomery looked sharply at Chuck out of the corner of his eye, though his posture remained indifferent.

Chuck tilted his head, up at the dark sky emphasized by the flashing Las Vegas lights around them.

"It's the girl, isn't it?"

Montgomery watched as Chuck stumbled, the said agent brushing it off with a "I wasn't watching where I was going".

He smiled. _The boy was still hopelessly in love_.

* * *

That's all folks! -For now. (Just needed a lift from my AS exam that I know I failed lol)

I love the way you can manipulate Roan in fanfiction: he's such a fun character to write, I couldn't resist.

Did anything else think the dance Sarah/Bryce did was hoooottt? They look quite good together ;) but fear not- I'm still devoted to Charah! Maybe it was intentional, but Yvonne didn't have that much facial expression when Chuck was delivering his little speech. I love the plot though: the comparison between her shot to kill the enemy behind Bryce and her hesitation to do the same for Chuck in concern that she might hurt him. Ooo and the part where they stand up to go into the apartment, the moment to stabilize herself and their forced smiles was absolutely positively (sorry Wellington)_adorable._

Does anyone know how to write action bits?? I'm totally stumped. Ooh and if anyone wants to help me work on my plot around a month after this (cuz I'm pretty busy with school), it would be _greatly _appreciated.

Review? You know you want to.


	2. Chapter II

Soooo, I finally got this fic back on track, although I still don't know what I'm going to write in the next chapter :)

There's going to be bits of random flashbacks during the new updates so you can piece together what happened. It's actually harder than I thought to coordinate that, and keep the plot moving forward as well.

Disclaimer: I have an unhealthy amount of interest in Chuck *cackle**malicious grin**Eunice creepy breathing (from She's the Man)*

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**  
Chapter Two**

--

_**  
June 18th 2009  
**_

_The whine of heavily geared trucks split the air, along with __a multitude of men's rough yells. Soldiers in full combat gear, faces painted black and green ran in small groups up surrounding hills, carried bulky packs and rifles slung securely across chests._

_All he could see from their position at the highest point of the camp was obstacle courses, a large river, a field of long grass, rows and rows of identical barracks, the tree line that a dense forest spread from over the mountainous valley._

_The straining engine ground to a purr, stopping a few meters after the thick chicken wire like fence that indicated the perimeter of the camp, a pair of guards slammed the heavy wooden gate closed behind him. _

_Suddenly he felt a large sense of trepidation, and fear. Everyone he had seen so far were practically clones of Casey: tough, gruff, muscular, alert. There was no Casey to save him now though. He gulped._

_There was a torrential downpour, but it didn't seem to stop -or slow- the clockwork routines from proceeding. The ground had turned to mud, completely sucking Chuck's chuck taylors into the ground as he leapt off the end of the vehicle into it. Rain was already seeping into the neck of his shirt, and matted his hair. _

_"Charles Irving Bartowski." _

_He stiffened. The curt voice belonged to a commanding man dressed in a pressed camo uniform. Chuck recognized a sergeant when he saw one: he played enough Call of Duty to know that. Unfortunately, he was in it for real, he only had one life, which could be eliminated without so much as a breeze. _

_Chuck gave a small weak beam- which fell off his face when there was nothing but utter seriousness that was reciprocated. _

_The sergeant seemed decent enough, though Chuck could see the distaste and exasperation in his eyes. _

_"You will address me as 'sir'. There will be no complaints. You will be expected to participate in whatever we throw at you. K-Unit will be whom you'll be staying with these next months." He stared at Chuck. "Understood?"_

_Chuck straightened as much as he could. "Yes sir."_

_As the sergeant stalked away, Chuck could __hear him mutter._

_"First that ratty teenager, now they send a nerd…__bloody hell."_

--

_**  
Present Time**_

"It was good seeing Chuck again..." Bryce said casually, reclining on the bed, eyes watching her move around the room.

Her hand fumbled. She swore, going into the bathroom to grab some toilet paper to hastily mop up the mess.

"Thanks," He said as Sarah handed him the glass of red wine wordlessly. She took her own, and stood facing the ranch sliders. Her eyes watched the fountains, but her gaze -and thoughts- were miles away.

He was used to these silences whenever he brought up this subject. There wasn't anything sensitive about it; as far as he knew, they didn't have anything except a fake relationship.

Bryce sighed. He never knew what to do to get her out of those funks. That had always been Chuck's job: comfort the rebound girls, then he would steal them off him after. He wasn't one for the emotional crap, that's why he was so suited for his profession. He drained his cup.

One more glance at Sarah told him that there would be no sex tonight; he looked closer at the expression that wasn't there...or the next few days.

He pushed his shoes off and kicked them carelessly off the bed.

"I'm going to bed."

Sarah didn't bother turning. She was deaf to the ruffles and noises as he proceeded to take off his clothes, turning the covers down, and the click of the switch.

All was quiet in the city of non-stop activities.

When she finally turned, her skin shone milky against the light of the wispy moon, cup still mostly full, the room dark. She set her glass down; it scraped on the wooden dresser. Her hand brushed against the reassuring bulge of her gun at the small of her back.

Without looking in his direction, she spoke.

"I'm going out for a walk. Don't bother waiting up."

There was no response but for his quiet even breaths and the silence that seemed to prevail more these days between their missions.

-She hadn't expected any.

--

"Hey babe." A deep voice slurred indistinctly, a strong arm sliding around her waist.

In a split second, the panic of the darkness, the audacious move on her, spurred her into action as she took the hand rapidly, twisted it tightly around his back, and had him bent over, wheezing and gasping for breath, on his knees in a matter of a split second.

"Don't touch me." She hissed venomously. She was in no mood for this tonight.

The man turned his head at look at her, his eyes watering unpleasantly.

"Aw no, iz..iz _you_!"

She released the arm immediately as if her hands had been burnt by his contact. Her eyes widening, she bent down to his level.

"Chuck? Is that you?" Sarah grabbed his chin, and tilted it towards what light filtered into the alley.

It was.

"What are you doing here?" She frowned at his intoxicated state, recoiling after smelling the pungent alcohol on his breath.

He chuckled slightly, "Ah, Agen' Walk-Wal-kar." Chuck shook his head like a puppy despondently, "Off all th- the women in Las Vagas..."

"Oh Chuck, since when did you start drinking like this?" She swept his sweaty curls from his forehead. His eyes darted to her hand, he looked like he wanted to say something.

He shook his head to himself, overbalanced from the slight movement and fell back onto the sidewalk, sitting unsteadily against the wall, "Since? Sinse you left!" He said accusingly. His vision cleared for a moment. "Ah crap, the booze is making me spill."

Chuck felt around the brick wall behind him, grabbing for purchase. He pulled himself up, staggering. His world spun again, and his head pounded like litres of sludge was churning through it.

"Oh good lord." He muttered, his stomach wobbling rather disagreeably.

Sarah looked cautiously at him, keeping her distance just in case he vomited.

Breathing deeply, he let go of the hard surface, putting his weight on his jelly-like knees.

He took a brave step determinately- and fell straight back into the arms of Sarah Walker.

"I nid to- get back to Monty- he owes me some lapdances..." Chuck let out a splutter, then a chorus of giggles.

"What I meant was: he's paying for them." He broke into absurd laughing again, blinking when his eyes started to go uncontrollably cross-eyed in front of his nose. "Whoops!" He hiccupped.

Sarah's neck tensed, and she looked away from him as she said, her voice tight, "I don't think you need that right now. Who knows what you'll do in this state."

Chuck let out a harsh, drunk bark. "Well, ah consider it better than me real life." His arm whirl-winded as he tried to aim his hand for her arm to support himself, just missing planting it square on her face if she had not reflexively jerked her head backwards. He continued.

"Of all peepole, I thin' you have, have the l-" He clutched her shoulder again, swaying, "-least right to...judge me, Agent Walker." Out of necessity, his training kicked in, his mental strength breaking through the foggy light-headedness, giving his mind some form of cognitive answers and coherent thought.

"I don't want to talk about it, Chuck."

Chuck laughed bitterly, "What a surprise- Walker running away from her problems!" He gestured emphatically.

"Look-"

He waved her off with a hand. "I geddit, I geddit. It's been a long time since…" Chuck suddenly looked almost sober, serious, his voice hitched slightly, "…Sarah Walker, I got over you a long time ago."

She didn't have words to that declaration. It hurt more than it should've- and she was very aware of that.

_One day_. She thought to herself. One day, they would have to have _the talk_, but right now, with most of Chuck's weight slung over her body, with the said man completely out of it, she knew she didn't have the strength to face the cliff between them.

One day.

--

She closed the door gently, resting her forehead against the hardness, and softly exhaling.

Chuck's soft snores behind her warmed her up in the Autumn air, and she could almost pretend that everything was fine between them, that he would be draped where she had left him on the bed which was empty of Montgomery's presence, that a small smile would be on his lips, his hair still long and curly instead of his shorter strands, his hands would be soft as before without a killer's calluses and he would be the nerdy, generous man that she thought she had left safety in LA.

Her skin prickled, goosebumps rising on her skin. Her eyes widened, finally noticing the body that stood behind her like a menacing shadow. There was a hot breath at her pulse point. Her nerves shivered in response. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Sarah turned slowly, steadying her unexpectedly shaking hands.

He was so very close to her. Her body was trapped an inch between him, and another inch from the door at her back. He was _much too close_.

"Chuck-" Her voice was hoarse.

He raised his arm, planting it next to her head, propping himself up.

She shuffled backward, trying to regain some distance from him. A loud intake of air left her lungs as he swiftly pinned her against the door, his chest pressing against her own, his right leg shoved in between hers, the knee resting on the wood behind her.

It was black, her eyes were practically blind, but she found it ironic that she was highly sensitive to every single movement he made.

"Sarah." Chuck's low voice was husky, and it seemed to her that the air had just heated up to supernova level. Her palms were slick as they clenched and unclenched nervously, breathing shallow and she was sure that her face was pallid.

His eyes were clearer than they had been the entire night as his stare penetrated through her head, drilling, prying into her.

Sarah was glad for his words; it distracted her from the way her lower navel was burning strangely, stopped her from acknowledging the way Chuck's own throat trembled.

Then she looked up. Her hands reached for his shoulders, and he fell naturally against her again, fallen asleep with no memory of this night to survive the morning.

Unbeknownst to the slumbering Chuck, Sarah Walker stayed by his bed the rest of the night in a chair a few meters away, gazing at his peaceful face, her eyes open and unable to fall asleep herself.

Just before dawn broke, she stood quietly, brushing a stray bang off his forehead carefully, bent down and gently pressed a kiss to his cheek. She bathed in the safety of his warmth for a moment, her face close to his, blinking slowly, she slowly drew away, releasing an unsteady breath.

"One day, Chuck. One day."

* * *

Eugh, the stupid doc thing for editing chapters is still screwed up, the lines are too close together, and if you put extra spacing, it just jumps back together. staff: get your act together!

And...ew, John Key won the election..._grrreeeatt_, we get to see his slimy face all over national tv for the next god-knows-how-long. Isn't America lucky? Even with all their shit (sorry for bad lang), at least they have Obama, who's actually decent.

Oh, and the offer of discussing the plot of this fic still stands. I need someone who's relatively experienced in writing/reading to help, I'll send a few bits of what I've written so far, and update you on it's general direction. Thanks to those who've already offered, and yes, your services will be gratefully called upon :)


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